


(Wherever you are) Where I'll be

by maerose



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Ben is beautiful and sad and I love him, Hurt/Comfort, Lola and Lexi are queens, M/M, Squad to the rescue!, ballum - Freeform, basically our bbs, fluffy and sad, hurt!Callum, sad and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maerose/pseuds/maerose
Summary: He’d winked like an idiot, more than happy when Callum had leaned in slowly, kissed him sweetly and touched the side of his face in that way he did. His warm, big hands enveloping all of Ben, making him feel safe and warm. Loved.Now he wishes he’d been braver. Had been strong enough to look Callum in the eye and utter the words that’d been on the tip of his tongue for months.Of course I love you, Callum. I’ve loved ya for a long time.Or: my take on the upcoming Valentine's Day episode and all the spoilers surrounding it.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	(Wherever you are) Where I'll be

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! :) 
> 
> Okay, so I'm not entirely happy with this, but this idea has been playing in my mind for a couple of days and I just had to sit myself down and try to get it out. This fic'll be continued - but I'm struggling a bit. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)  
> Comments are like warm hugs!

The day had started off great. _Amazing_ , even.

Then everything had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

*

He’d woken next to Callum and just marveled at him for a minute. Couldn’t help but smile at the way his hair had gone all soft and floppy during the night. Rid of all the product, his boyfriend looked like one of those weird macaroni penguins at the zoo: tall, soft and utterly ridiculous. Ben had actively resisted the urge to touch, not ready to wake the other man just yet. Instead he’d carefully shifted, propping his head onto his curled up palm, and snuggling a little more into his pillow. Just breathing. Never losing focus.

He’d marveled at the thought that just one year before, he hadn’t even known Callum existed, let alone how far he’d fall for the man. How scared he’d feel when everything became too real and there was a real chance they’d make it; an even bigger chance he’d stuff it up. The time they’d spent apart was like a knife inside his chest, twisting and pulling every single minute. It was a damn near miracle that they’d found their way back and he was thankful every day.

So, while Valentines day might be a schmalzy commercial business, he knew Callum actuallycared about all that sappy romance. Didn’t mean Ben didn’t feel slightly (alright; _very_ )uncomfortable all the same, which is why he’d made a point of concentrating very intently on the milk’s expiration date when the other man finally walked into the living room.

And noticed the stuffed bear Ben had placed near his breakfast bowl, holding a big red heart that read _I ruff you beary much._

For a second everything was quiet, only the sound of Ben’s spoon clattering against his bowl as he one-handedly ate, accompanied by the soft love ballads the radio was croaking out on this Holiday of Holidays.

Callum had huffed a little. “You joking me with this?” There was a little laugh in his voice, but an equal amount of wonder.

Ben glanced at him sideways. “Hm?”

“Ben!” A real laugh; pleased and warm and perfect.

“What? Doesn’t come as a surprise to ya, does it?”

“Wha’, that you ‘ _ruff me beary much’?_ ” He’d grinned, eyes sparkling. “Yeah, I- I might have suspected something.” Callum had paused a little. “You’ve never said…”

Ben had raised his eyebrows playfully at that. “Hence the bear, Callum.”

He’d winked like an idiot, more than happy when Callum had leaned in slowly, kissed him sweetly and touched the side of his face in that way he did. His warm, big hands enveloping all of Ben, making him feel safe and warm. Loved.

*

Now he wishes he’d been braver. Had been strong enough to look Callum in the eye and utter the words that’d been on the tip of his tongue for months. _Of course I love you, Callum. I’ve loved ya for a long time._

His hands shake as he draws them to his face, pressing against his eyes in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay. There’s still red splotches on them. Red splotches and streaks from where he’d grabbed at Callum, had begged him to just open his eyes, look at him and smile. There’s a faint taste of copper on his lips too, though that might just be his imagination.

Ben looks up at the sound of children bickering - apparently fighting over who gets to hold a big and blue _“It’s a boy!!”_ balloon. Their mother threatens to take it away altogether if they don’t shut up and be quiet. She’s got a a scarf draped across her arm, herding her little ones in the direction of the maternity ward. 

_Callum should’ve been wearing a warmer jacket._

Funnily enough, that’s one of the things his mind is stuck on. Callum and his warm-blooded disposition, refusing to wear anything but that - sexy but flimsy - bomber jacket while the rest of human race was all duffled up.

It’s cold here, too. He’s sat in the reception area at the front entrance of the hospital, near the sliding doors that let in a whoosh of icy February air every time they open and close. Stuart won’t let him anywhere _near_ his brother now, so this is the closest he’s going to get. Watching people come and go, all different purposes and state of mind, while the man he loves is fighting for his life in one of the operating rooms.

He hopes Callum somehow knows he’s here.

*

Ben had tugged at Callum’s belt loops when he’d made a move to go to work. “Let’s skip work today.” He’d murmured, kissing his way up from Callum’s collarbone to the underside of his chin. Choosing not to register his boyfriend’s long-suffering sigh.

“The dead don’t care it’s Valentines, Ben.”

“ _Au contraire_ , Mister Highway,” He’d exclaimed. “I’m _sure_ the dead would urge ya to spend more time with your gorgeous and (more-importantly) still- _alive_ boyfriend, and you know,” he’d cupped Callum lightly through his jeans, “ _seize the day_.”

Callum had answered him with a frankly spectacular eye roll. “That might honestly be the worst pun you’ve ever made.”

Ben had just bitten the side of his jaw, feeling his boyfriend go boneless as his touches intensified. _Just like that, babe._

He'd sent him a positively predatory look, then led them to the bedroom, tugging his clothes and leaving kisses like breadcrumbs all the way.

*

“Do bears even _say_ ‘ruff’?” Callum had asked him afterwards, his arm around Ben as they lay together. “Ain’t that dogs?”

“Dunno.” Ben had said, twisting his face so he could better look at him.

“Maybe he’s got some sort of identity crisis.”

*

He should have never let Callum leave the bed.

Ben should’ve kept him safe.


End file.
